


Dark Dreams

by CircusBones



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grimdark, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircusBones/pseuds/CircusBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his dreams, she dies every night.</p><p>Days of Future Past spoilers, compliant, etc. Ow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Dreams

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"You poor, poor man…Enough! ENOUGH! I don’t want your suffering! I don’t want your future!"

\- Charles Xavier

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In his dreams, she dies every night.

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They’re on that desolate plain again, where upstate New York had once been. It’s too wide, too open, the poisoned, caustic sky above them far too vast as they run hand in hand, their son a few paces ahead, running to meet the jet.

Darcy trips, she stumbles and falls just as Storm sends the hailstorm down on the pursuing sentinels. Logan shouts her name, James shouts for his mother, as their enemy manages one good shot at the most vulnerable member of their party. The sentinel is blown half a mile away, but not before Darcy’s limp frame tumbles into the X-Jet.

Every night, he cradles her in his arms, trying and failing to not look too long at the hole blown clear through her chest, tattered leather and armor, her gorgeous eyes glassy and blank. James, barely an adult now, weeping like a little boy as Storm speeds the Jet off into oblivion.

In his dreams, he never saves her, they never get on the jet just in time. They’re a shoddy excuse for dreams, really, nothing more than a replay of his greatest failure thus far, in this whole hellish nightmare of a future.

So of course he says yes, when Charles asks him to do this thing. Of course he takes one look at his sons, standing together now, a veritable force to be reckoned with yet who are so so much darker now, without James’ mother, without the woman who’d married Daken’s father. Without Rogue, without Jubes, Hank, Jean…

Of course he says yes.

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The last thing he hears, between the water rushing into his lungs in the past and the frantic, bloody attack taking place in the future, is James. James yelling Blink’s name as he dies, as he yelled for another spritely, loving woman once, his voice pained and aching.

Logan shuts his eyes…he hears nothing, not for a while.

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"Oi, big guy," A pillow hits him square in the face just as he’s opening his eyes, and Logan bolts upright in his soft, compfy bed. Across the room in a sleek kitchenette, Darcy is laughing, tossing her hair. "You’ve got a class to teach in, like, ten minutes baby. You and Beast hit the sauce hard last night without my noticing, or…?"

She cocks a brow, but Logan is too busy staring at her, mapping her beautiful, living face with his eyes. Then he’s looking at the paneled walls, at the futuristic alarm clock…his ears twitching at the sound of students running through the hallways outside. Darcy’s brow creases, he notices that, notes the way her eyes sharpen on him, as they always had. “…Hun, what’s…?”

“I need to see Charles,” He breathes out, his voice strangled.

She leads him through the halls with a wary gaze, her arms wrapped around his and it is the sweetest feeling in the world. She doesn’t protest, when he pauses to kiss her every few yards, running his hands through her long hair as he hasn’t in months now, at least in his timeline. Though there are questions all over her face, Darcy knows by now to wait.

James passes them in the halls on his way to class, and cringes good-naturedly, Blink laughing close at his side, and Logan feels downright light-headed.

“Your hair,” He says, dazedly, when a very alive and very red Jean Grey greets them outside of Charles’ office, blinking wildly, “It’s so….red.”

”…Happens, if you didn’t realize by now, after dying half a dozen times?” She gives Darcy a questioning look, to which Darcy just shrugs. They move on, and Logan feels a good and massive headache coming on.

”Logan, don’t you have a history class to be teaching?” Charles turns, looking as he always had, and Logan feels his throat tighten, his grip on his living, breathing, whole wife’s arm tightening.

”Finding myself a little rusty….might need a refresher, starting around….1973?”

Charles’ whole face changes, as Darcy stares up at him, bewildered.

“Darcy,” Charles whispers, “Please close the door….”

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End file.
